


Your Hand in Mine

by cosmic_llin



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 16:21:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20567303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmic_llin/pseuds/cosmic_llin
Summary: A collection of drabbles written for the Hubblestar Drabble Tree, August 2019.





	1. Rollercoaster

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Transport](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18000434) by [rainshaded](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainshaded/pseuds/rainshaded). 
  * Inspired by [Flirtations and Longings](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20457068) by [Emiline](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emiline/pseuds/Emiline). 
  * Inspired by [Tender Moments](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20403838) by [cassiopeiasara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassiopeiasara/pseuds/cassiopeiasara). 

Dimity Drill isn’t one of those witches who thinks that everything witches do is automatically superior. Non-magical people, in the absence of spells and charms, have found other ways of making life interesting.

For example, non-magical people are the ones who invented rollercoasters.

‘Why on earth do you want to go on a rollercoaster?’ Julie had teased, bumping her hip into Dimity’s. 'You can already fly!’

But there’s something different about this - the way gravity hurls them up peaks and down troughs, the rattling speed of it, the tiny thrill of helplessness as they drop.

Julie’s hand holding hers tight.


	2. Forfeit

‘I win!’ crows Julie. 'Again. Time to pay your forfeit…’  
  
Dimity groans. It’s a witching game they’re playing, and she’s surprised at how quickly Julie has picked it up. Almost suspiciously quickly. As though, perhaps, her witching daughter has already taught her how to play.  
  
Julie _had_ agreed with surprising eagerness when Dimity suggested adding forfeits to spice things up. She’s lost the last three rounds, already forfeited her jacket, shoes and socks.   
  
Julie’s still fully clothed.  
  
Dimity peels off her t-shirt. Julie gives her a long, appreciative look, and for a moment Dimity forgets that she’s trying to win.


	3. Wave

Julie feels their first kiss approaching for days, like a building wave. Every time they’re in the same room, she can tell Dimity is thinking about it too.

She doesn’t try to force it. It will happen when the time is right.

It’s early evening, in the broom shed. Julie’s holding a clipboard, helping Dimity check the safety of the flying spells. Dimity works her way along the row, towards her, and Julie thinks, _here we go_.

The clipboard clatters to the floor. Dimity’s hand cups her cheek. Julie reaches out, pulls Dimity closer.

The kiss sweeps them both away.


	4. Sketch

Julie loved to sketch Dimity.

She told herself it was because Dimity was always moving, always expressive. A sketch of Dimity in flight, or striding purposefully through the grounds, was the perfect way to practise capturing motion, energy, personality.

It didn’t mean anything that, in the evenings, she lingered over those sketches and wondered whether she’d truly captured Dimity’s smile, the sparkle in her eyes. It didn’t mean anything that she had five times more sketches of Dimity than of anyone else.

(Later, when they’d figured some things out, she showed Dimity the sketches. Dimity laughed and posed for more.)


	5. Still

Dimity is almost never still.

She starts her days with a run, a few minutes of precious time to herself before a full day of teaching and pastoral care. All day she flies, jumps and jogs, from classroom to broom shed to grounds.

When her muscles are sore in the evening, it’s a satisfying feeling. She’s worked hard and done good things. If she goes straight to bed, she’ll sleep soundly and sweetly.

Some nights, though, Julie offers her skilled hands to ease away some of the ache, and Dimity leans into her touch, and that’s a satisfying feeling, too.


	6. Voice

Julie writes letters, and Dimity reads them and hears her voice in the words. Julie is as smart and expressive on paper as she is in person.

Dimity keeps meaning to write back, but her days are so long and active that most evenings she’s too tired in brain and body for more than a few brief lines.

Mildred takes pity on her and shows her a trick she found to connect a maglet to the non-magical mobile phone network. Dimity dictates her letters and her voice travels through the ether to Julie without her having to write a thing.


	7. Fireplace

They stumble indoors, away from the biting wind. The cottage they’ve rented is so close to the beach they can still hear the waves, and the air tastes like salt even inside.

There’s firewood piled by the hearth, but the grate is empty.

‘I could cast a fire spell, but it won’t do much without fuel,’ says Dimity.

'No need,’ says Julie.

She kneels at the fireplace, expertly layering the kindling. Dimity shivers. Julie strikes a match, and the fire begins to creep into life.

While they wait for it to warm up, she fetches them a blanket to share.


	8. Lost

‘Were all your family potions teachers?’ Julie asked, in the quiet of Dimity’s bed.

'Nah,’ said Dimity. 'A few, though. I considered it, but flying’s what I love.’

'I wonder what my mum would’ve done, if she’d been a witch?’ Julie said. 'I know giving up my magic was right, but I feel like I’ve lost something that should’ve been mine.’

'Being a witch isn’t just magic,’ said Dimity. 'You’re brave, and loyal. That counts for something.’

Julie sighed. 'Maybe.’

Dimity leaned in and kissed her. A distraction, Julie knew. It didn’t make anything better, really, but it still helped.


End file.
